A/N: A writing prompt about tea inspired this, so I will likely post little moments between Shepard and Vakarian that have nothing to do with either of the ME stories I'm doing. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I liked exploring this different, quieter side of my favorite ME couple.
Together. Always.
The soft glow of her private terminal illuminated her face, accentuating the creases and scars she'd acquired since Cerberus rebuilt her. The machine sounded out quiet pings for every new message that came through, like echoes in her cabin, but in reality it was just a lot of mail coming in at once.
Shepard faced the empty fish tank, unable to continue reading pleas of help and military loss reports. All for her. Or rather, because of her. Because of Thessia.
Nightmares plagued her sleep and the Reapers her waking hours. There was no rest, no end in sight. And now that Thessia had fallen, Shepard didn't think there would ever be one.
Her door hissed open. For once, Shepard regretted her open-door policy. That is, until she heard him.
"Shepard," Garrus called to her. His voice was a magnet to his eyes. He stretched his neck this way and that way until he felt comfortable enough. "I brought you something."
Only then did Shepard notice the tray with a chunky kettle and two small cups, one of which was already full. She'd been too busy looking at his face, not for the first time losing herself to the hair-thin cracks scattered across his plates where there hadn't been any before she died.
Not a second later, she was thrown into a trance. She tried to process how chaos had enveloped them from the moment they'd met that fateful day at the Citadel years ago, and yet he had so willingly provided that stability she'd secretly and desperately grown dependent on. The two of them had been through hell and back, thick and thin, and in one too many foxholes— all the while Garrus remained faithfully by her side. They'd had their share of disagreements; at times, he had even questioned some of the decisions she made. But never her loyalty, her friendship, or her love. Never questioned her.
"You okay?" he asked softly, but loud enough to bring her back to reality.
She gave him an easy smirk. "I am," she replied, standing as she spoke. She looked at the tray again, with a quizzical brow in place. "What is it?"
He balanced it on one hand and pushed her terminal toward the corner of her desk with the other before setting the tray down. "Well," he began, "I decided to do more research on humans—"
"Have you now?" she teased.
His mandibles flared out in a grin. "—Not that kind of research, Shepard. Besides, I have you for that." He allowed her a moment to giggle, fully knowing she would, before continuing. "I know you've been under a lot of stress lately and found that drinking tea is supposed to help people relax." He lowered a hand to her waist and slid it to her lower back, guiding her to the long couch parallel to their bed. "I'll be right back," he promised and returned to her desk, where the tray was.
Shepard sat back on the couch, craning her neck to see what Garrus was up to, but their respective positions forbade her from seeing anything but the top of his head. She followed his form when he came back into view.
Garrus sat beside her, close enough that their legs were touching. When he settled down, he nestled a warm cup in her hands and looked at her expectantly. "I made it myself."
The pride in his eyes was unmistakable, as was his hesitation. She'd seen the look before plenty of times, especially when it came to trying out newly learned human traditions and anything else of the sort. It was endearing.
She brought the warm cup to her lips, noticing the various unmistakable remains of leaves; most of the minced pieces were still fresh green or purple, some floating gingerly at the top while others were crumpled at the bottom of the cup. The water was a very pale yellow, and the normally scented silky steam coming from the brew lacked any sort of indication that this was, in fact, tea.
Shepard steeled herself and took a sip.
The taste was lighter than she had expected, thankfully. Though what she could taste, was familiar to her in the shape of cilantro and other leafy ingredients found in the kitchen down in the mess. She had to muffle a chuckle that threatened to escape her at the thought that this exceptional sniper with keen observational skills, and former C-Sec investigator, had completely missed the little box of tea bags next to the coffee machine on the kitchen counter. She'd have to tease him about it. Later. "Mmm."
Satisfied with her reaction, Garrus joined her in drinking the contents of his own cup. It was a dark turian drink that smelled more appealing than her own. "We'll get through this, Shepard. Together. We always do."
"Always?"
"Always."
He drew his arm behind Shepard, resting it there while he played with her hair. He beamed and nudged her forehead with his, moving in for a push of his turian mouth to her human lips.
She returned his smile. His visor was tucked safely by his armor in the cargo bay; Shepard was free to loose herself in those lovely, inviting pools of his. His gestures gave her more comfort and peace than any promises of support she'd ever received, and his gaze touched her more deeply than any poetic words ever could.
Maybe she didn't need a great escape after all, because everything she needed was the turian next to her.
